Said my friend Patrick: “My writer’s cave is littered with the bones of animals I’ve tried to create.”

The Writer’s Cave

We call it our writer’s cave

We drag carcasses from out of the light

To study them as they decay

We prop them and we pose them

We light a torch

To see their shadows dance and run

We trace their shapes with charcoal

To adorn our walls

We stare at the smudges

And imagine life outside

We forget to eat

And fall asleep hungry

Dreaming of food

Thanks for reading. Cheers,

Images from Cave of Forgotten Dreams by the incomparable and delightfully befuddling filmmaker Werner Herzog